‘Let’s go and see what we have for supper.’
I followed him into an adjoining room that contained an old and noisy fridge, a gas stove and a sink that didn’t have any taps.
‘I have some steak if you’re interested? I can prepare it with a few vegetables on the side.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘The plates and cutlery are in that cupboard. There’s a frying pan and a saucepan in there too.’
I rooted through the cupboard and set the required items on the little wooden table in the centre of the room. Meanwhile, he took some carrots, onions and potatoes from the fridge and began to peel and chop them deftly. I sat down and watched him, my brain trying to fathom out the genetic pathways that linked us. I would have to draw myself a family tree at some point.
‘Are you a cook, Celaeno?’ he asked me as he worked.
‘No,’ I admitted. ‘My sister, Star, did all that stuff.’
‘You live together?’
‘We used to, up until a couple of months ago.’
‘What happened? You fell out?’
‘No . . . it’s a long story.’
‘Well,’ he said as he lit the flame on the gas ring and tossed the vegetables into a pan, together with some unfamiliar herbs, ‘after dinner, you can tell me all about your life.’
We sat out on the veranda eating what tasted like the best steak ever, but maybe it was just because I was starving. I realised it was my first meal with a blood relative of mine, and I marvelled at how people could do this every day without even thinking how special it was.
Once we’d finished eating, my grandfather showed me the barrel of rainwater at the back of the hut. I used a pitcher to take some to the sink and washed up the plates while he brewed some coffee on the gas ring. He lit an oil lamp on the veranda and we leant back in the wooden chairs, sipping the coffee.
‘Just in case you doubt me, I want to show you this.’
It was another black and white photo, this time of two women standing on either side of a man. One of the women, although darker skinned than me, could have been my double. It was the eyes that clinched it – they had the same almond shape as mine.
‘See the likeness?’
‘Yeah, I do. Your eyes are the same shape too. She was your mother?’
‘Yes, that was Alkina, or “Cat” as everyone called her. As you’ve heard, I never got to meet her.’
‘And who is that?’ I pointed to the handsome blond man who towered over the two women. He had an arm round both of them.
‘That’s Charlie Mercer. Your great-grandfather and my father.’
‘And the other woman?’
‘Camira, my grandmother. Apart from my Sarah, she was the most wonderful, kind and brave human being I have ever known . . .’
His eyes moved to the horizon and I saw they were filled with sadness.
‘So she came to look after you at Hermannsburg?’
‘Oh yes, she came. I grew up thinking she was my mother, and she could have been. She was only in her early forties when I was born, you see.’
‘Did Charlie Mercer ever know about you? Like, did you meet him?’
‘Celaeno,’ he sighed, ‘let’s leave the past for now. I want to hear about you. How has your life been?’
‘That’s a big question.’
‘Then let me help you. When I began to search for my daughter and eventually found you, I was told that you had been adopted by a rich man from Switzerland. You lived there in your childhood?’
‘Yes, in Geneva.’
‘You have brothers and sisters?’
‘Only sisters. And all six of us are adopted.’
‘What are your sisters’ names? How old are they?’
‘You’re probably gonna find this weird, but we’re all named after the Seven Sisters.’
His eyes widened with interest and I thought that at least I could cut out explaining who we were and what the myth was. This man would have been taught about them from birth. They were his Ancestors too.
‘You say there are six of you?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Like in the legend,’ we both said together, then laughed.
‘Merope is there, even though she hides sometimes. Perhaps one day she will be found.’
‘Well, it’s too late now, for Pa at least. He died last June.’
‘I am sorry, Celaeno. He was a good man?’
‘Yes, very, although sometimes I felt he loved my other sisters more than me. They’re all so talented and beautiful.’
‘As are you. And remember, nothing happens by chance. It is all planned out for us before we even take our first breath.’
‘Do you really believe that?’
‘I think I must, given the way I was found as a baby by my blood relative, who then brought my grandmother to care for me as I grew. I don’t know of your religious beliefs, but surely no man or woman can deny that there must be something bigger than us? I put my trust in the universe, even though sometimes I feel as though it has let me down, as I did when I lost my own daughter. But that was her path to follow, and I must accept the pain.’
I thought how wise and dignified this man was, and, with a pang, how much he reminded me of Pa Salt.
‘Again, we have strayed away from the track of your life. Please, tell me about your sisters.’
I did so, reeling off the potted biographies of each of them as I had done so many times before.
‘I see. But it seems you have left one sister out.’
I counted them up in my head. ‘No, I’ve told you a little about all of them.’
‘You still haven’t told me about you.’
‘Oh, right, well.’ I cleared my throat. ‘There’s not really much to tell. I live in London with Star, though I think she’s probably moved out permanently while I’ve been gone. I was a dunce at school because I have dyslexia. It’s—’
‘I know what that is, because I have it too. And so did your mother.’
The word ‘mother’ sent a funny shiver through me. Even though from what he’d said so far I had to guess that she was dead, at least he’d be able to tell me about her. ‘It must be genetic then. The trouble was, Star – or Asterope – was the one I was always closest to because we were in the middle and only a few months apart in age. She’s really clever, and the worst thing is that me being stupid academically held her back. She won a place at Cambridge, but didn’t take it. She came to uni in Sussex with me instead. I know I put pressure on her to do it. I feel really guilty about that.’
‘Perhaps she didn’t want to be without you either, Celaeno.’
‘Yeah, but sometimes in life you should try to be the bigger person, shouldn’t you? I should have persuaded her to go, told her not to worry about me, if I’d really loved her, which I did. And still do,’ I gulped.
‘Love is both the most selfish and unselfish emotion in the world, Celaeno, and its two facets cannot be separated. The need in oneself battles against the wish for the loved one to be happy. So unfortunately, love is not something to be rationalised and no human being escapes its grip, believe me. What did you study at university?’
‘History of Art. It was a disaster and I left after a couple of terms. I just couldn’t hack the essays because of my dyslexia.’